Saving
by thebloodrose
Summary: AU While Chris was in the past trying to save Wyatt, someone was in the future; attempting the same feat. Attempting to awaken the goodness and humanity inside his dark heart. Even the Source of All Power needs saving. WyattOC 'T' for safety PLEASE R&R.
1. Amusement

Title: Saving

Summary: AU While Chris was in the past trying to save Wyatt, someone was in the future; attempting the same feat. Attempting to awaken the goodness and humanity inside his dark heart. Even the Source of All Power needs saving. WyattOC 'T' for safety. Might go up.

Characters: Wyatt and OC, among others.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. If I did, then it would still be going today.

Okay! So, I think I've lapsed back into my Charmed addiction, NEVER healthy. But I got to thinking, if Chris was trying so hard to save Wyatt in the past, was anyone trying in the future? And if so, how were they going to achieve it? And therefore this was born. I'm a little nervous that maybe this isn't that plausible but I hope that how I write it will make it seem more believable. Please review, criticism and flames are welcome, I am _freezing_ here in Australia. Oh and this is unBetaed so sorry for any mistakes. Enjoy.

**Please Read:** Ok. After an extremely valid review I realised that I should probably say something here and now. This story will not Chris in any fashion.

I know most people enjoying reading Chris and Wyatt fics but I am attempting to stay within some events that were established during season 6, such as the fact that Chris only returns to the future _once._ I'll try to include some parts were Chris is mentioned or Wyatt might think about his brother but I want to try and keep this set during the unchanged future.

Thanks to **artisticfan **for pointing that out. If I can improve my OC is any way, please let me know.

* * *

Lord Wyatt, self-proclaimed ruler of the Earth gazed coldly out over the crumbling underworld. It could use some work. But then again, the surface wasn't faring any better. Many had questioned the hybrid why he remained underground, and few had survived to hear the answer. It was all about fear. Fear and respect.

The dark underworld was perfect, no resistance dare enter and when he seldom walked among his empire the entire world trembled, terrified of the reason why their lord and master had risen from his thrown in 'Hell' as the mortals had deemed it, to walk about the dying cities. That and the flocks of demons, demigods and other ghastly creatures preferred the gloomy underground.

The cavern was equal in size to the throne room at Buckingham Palace, a room which Wyatt had relished in destroying, among the Oval office and the Vatican City to name a few. The cavern possessed no single entrance, but instead the entire back wall had been blasted away to form a large cave mouth, overlooking buildings below.

Each burning brightly as the lava flowed around it and the entire population of the underworld lived under the watchful eye of their Lord.

Tables with crude plans crowded the outskirts and main expanse between the walls was filled with the many minions of his empire. And finally, at the head of the room stairs led up to a throne, akin to those illustrated within fairy tales with an exception. No gold lined the thrown, no pure white cushions extruded from the frame.

This throne was the seat of power for the Source of All Power and was black; that deepest, darkest black that haunted your nightmares. And upon this image of pain and misery sat no other than the destroyer himself, blonde curls falling to his shoulders and hazel eyes sweeping over the entirety of the sight that lay before him.

Beside him, various slaves waited for order. Some carried food, others stood silently until their services were required. The cavern buzzed with commotion, demons discussing plans, manticores and vampires constantly fighting and darklighters trading powers with the many bounty hunters scattered throughout their midst's. A commotion, louder than the entire hall combined began to echo from a side corridor before spilling out into the cavern.

Slowly and surely the large audience quietened, and watch in disbelief as two demons pulled a struggling prisoner down the corridor and into the hall. The crowd parted and the threesome trudged down the centre, the demons efforts being impeded by the struggling mass.

They were close enough for others to see, two lower level demons dragged a young woman, with dirty brunette hair that whipped dangerously to and fro as she struggled. Cuts adorned her arms and a large gash was bleeding on her left cheek. Her dark jeans were ripped and the dark, combat shirt was ripped in the midriff section revealing numerous faint scars.

They came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. Wyatt's eyes darkened and he rose swiftly from his throne. "Leave us" he commanded and despite the size of the room, every one of its occupants heard him and scrambled to get out. Some shimmered, others flamed while the majority simply retreated into the town below. The once crowded room now seemed impossibly large and each step that Wyatt descended echoed painfully throughout the underworld.

He took in the woman's appearance; a smirk adorned his face at her defiance as she stood tall despite the shackles encasing her hands. The Source slowly turned to the demons, who cowered slightly. "Who is she?" The words were quite and hissed.

"We captured her during a patrol. She's from the resistance." The first demon muttered. "Yes, I can see that. But what is she doing here?" Wyatt's voice remained level, a certain edge remaining. "W-w-well, she took out the entire patrol. W-w-we were the reinforcements and j-j-just barely managed to contain her and block her magic." The demon stuttered, glancing fearfully over at his partner. "We t-thought you would be interested, considering the magnitude of power she possesses."

"And since when do I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO THINK?" The anger in Wyatt's voice caused rocks to fall and the floor to tremble. The demons began to shrink back in fear and an energy ball slowly formed in Wyatt's outstretched hand.

"You mean since when have they had the capacity to think?" The sarcastic comment emerged and the woman gave a wry smile, and the energy ball disappeared as Wyatt turned his attention to the witch in disbelief.

And then he laughed. A deep, hollow laugh the bounced about the walls and sent chills down the spines of the witch's capturers. "Well, well, well," the dark lord mused and he stepped forward, an evil smile still gracing his lips. "There's a first, a resistance member with a sense of humour." He continued to look over the woman. "I might just keep you. Strangely you amuse me."

The woman tilted her head. "Thanks," she drawled, "I'll remember to add that to my resume." She finished, her voice laced with spite.

A sharp THWACK was heard and the witch felt her face burn and her lip bleed from the slap. "You may amuse me, but retort again and I will kill you." Wyatt sneered darkly and his fingers crackled with energy.

The woman spat the blood onto the ground and returned her gaze to the hybrid. "Okey Dokey Skippy." Growling Wyatt raised his hand began to telekinetically choke the witch in front. She gasped and tried to vain to breathe. She dropped to her knees and her chest began to constrict. A sudden, low horn sounded and interrupted the witch's slow death. Wyatt snapped his gaze up and released his hold upon the witch.

She dropped weakly to the ground, coughing and gasping for air. The bounty hunters had returned, the elite team Wyatt had sent to capture the Resistance members. He glared mercilessly down at the woman. "Put her with the other slaves." He snapped at the two demons, who quickly began to pull the witch to her feet. "And get her some _proper_ clothes," he sneered once more.

He walked back up to his throne and upon reaching the top of the stairs, he whipped around. "What's your name witch?" Wyatt's harsh voice caused the demons to wince in pain. The young prisoner looked defiantly up into Wyatt's eyes and struggled to stand by herself. "Ismara. Ismara Hunt." The dark lord studied this 'Ismara Hunt' for a few seconds before angrily dismissing the threesome. He watched them disappear and muttered darkly, and resumed his seat overlooking his empire.

* * *

Review? The next chapters will be longer. Hopefully.


	2. Rage

Title: Saving

Summary: AU While Chris was in the past trying to save Wyatt, someone was in the future; attempting the same feat. Attempting to awaken the goodness and humanity inside his dark heart. Even the Source of All Power needs saving. WyattOC 'T' for safety. Might go up.

Characters: Wyatt and OC, among others.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. There, I said it. Happy?

A/N: Two chapters in two days? I know, shocking. Please read and review. I would love to hear feedback, both positive and negative!

* * *

Ismara groaned when her body impacted the floor, and lifted her head slightly to glare at the retreating demons. "Bastards" she muttered quietly, pulling herself to her feet. Her wounds had been cleaned and bandaged rather roughly. Her split lip remained from the strike she had received.

Looking down at her attire, Ismara sighed. 'Great, just great' she thought. Her jeans and shirt had been replaced with a mid-thigh black dress that had seen better days. The left shoulder strap was frayed while the right had been completely ripped off to leave the black fabric hanging. Looking up, she took her surrounds and stiffened slightly at the attention she was receiving.

The small, dank room was filled with, Ismara hazarded a guess of six other slaves, each sitting quietly on a makeshift bed. Ismara was unable to gauge their powers and all of them stared quietly, unnerving at her. A small, brown scab on the closest young witch, Ismara assumed, caused her to look down her left arm and she bought her right hand up.

Gently she brushed her fingertip over her identical wound, a small hole from where the syringe had entered. Apparently the liquid within it dampened her magical abilities and Ismara was liable to believe it, she felt slightly hazy. Almost like her grasp on reality could slip at any moment. She felt like half of her was missing, it was unnerving to say the least.

"What? Never seen a new girl before?" she snapped at the audience she had gathered. Half the slaves flinched while the others merely turned their heads back to each other and the walls. Ismara immediately felt guilty and sighed, looking down at her feet. Her short temper was bound to her downfall, even the Resistance could tell that.

Her anger tended to build inside her before a final straw caused her to explode. Usually her spiteful sarcasm lessened her burning anger but there were times when even that weren't enough.

The war room inside the Resistance headquarters had suffered during one of those times.

Like other witches, Ismara's powers were controlled by her emotions, and when her anger boiled out of control her telekinesis soon followed.

Spotting an empty rack, Ismara stumbled towards it. 'Genius. Just genius. Allow yourself to be captured. Ain't you a regular Einstein' she mentally berated herself. She honestly hadn't meant to be caught; she was attempting to reach one of the strongholds on the outer limits. Let's just say that her attempt was unsuccessful. The rough edge of the rack came into contact with her legs and she gladly allowed her body to fall ungracefully onto the hard mattress.

Truth be told, Ismara didn't even know why she was still breathing. Everyone inside the Resistance knew the chances of being spared once you had been caught by Wyatt's forces. Despite the Twice-Blessed's comment of her being amusing, Ismara still couldn't grasp why that had stopped him from taking her life.

Well, to be fair the horn had actually stopped him but still. Ismara bought her hands up to her face and groaned loudly. Looking to her left, she saw a younger, blonde girl looking at her in confusion.

Giving a weak smile, Ismara held out her hand. "Ismara Hunt. My friends call me Mara." The young girl stared at her outstretched hand, which Ismara let fall after a few seconds.

The girl averted her gaze to the ceiling and murmured quietly, "Bell." Ismara grinned and turned onto her back to mirror Bell's stance. "Bell. That's nice." A gentle silence followed and Ismara began to fiddle with the fraying strands of the thin blanket underneath her.

"Lord Wyatt must like you." The comment was so quiet that Ismara almost missed it. She turned her head in surprise and her green eyes met Bell's. "Pardon?" she asked in disbelief. The young witch shrugged. "He must like you, for you to be in here. Most new girls are sold. But not you." Bell glanced over Ismara before returning her gaze to the dark ceiling.

"You'll be serving our Lord tomorrow, along with the others in this room. I guess you'll be replacing one of the wine girls, we lost Lena last week. One of the bounty demons didn't like the look of her."

Ismara felt a cold shiver throughout her body. "That's barbaric" she whispered fiercely.

Bell remained silent.

Ismara glanced at the entrance and saw two guards standing there. One of them turned slightly and flicked his wrist; a cold wind rippled throughout the cave and diminished the flames on the outskirts. The tiny room was now bathed in darkness. Ismara shuffled about, attempting to get comfortable and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

"Get your sleep new girl. You'll need it for tomorrow." Bell's voice echoed slightly and Ismara reluctantly closed her eyes, unaware of what the morning would bring.

* * *

A bright light, accompanied with harsh noises began to force Ismara awake. A rough, callused hand shook her awake and she grudgingly opened her eyes to see Bell. "Wake up new girl. Our work begins." Pushing her body up with her arms, Ismara blearily rubbed her eyes and attempted to de-knot her hair.

A crude brush landed heavily in her lap and she raised her eyes to see Bell's expectant look. Hesitantly she picked up the instrument and pulled it through her brunette hair, managing to pull it into a rough bun with her fringe falling in front. Mara slowly reached over and placed the brush next to Bell. "Thanks." Bell nodded; her blonde hair flowed freely over her shoulders.

Suddenly, the mass of the occupants began to form a single line and Ismara quickly followed Bell to the end. A demon appeared at the front and end of the line causing Mara to swallow nervously. She felt like she was being herded to her death. The line began to move and Ismara shuffled along. They filed though various tunnels and past rooms and Ismara realised that there was no way she would remember the route. It was akin to a dark labyrinth.

After a few minutes they came across a medium sized cave. The line immediately dispersed and each slave moved to a different station and Ismara felt Bell roughly grab her arm and pull her towards the area that reminded her of a kitchen from the old days, before the war. A tray with a pitcher and cups was shoved into her slack arms and Ismara looked up at Bell in confusion.

"Stand straight, only speak when spoken to and whatever you do, do not make eye contact or spill the wine."

Ismara rolled her eyes. "Yeah, cause I'm really going to pour an entire pitcher of wine on his evilness" she joked wryly but the smile soon disappeared when she saw Bell's serious face. Swallowing slowly she repositioned the tray. "Behave, got it."

Bell turned away, received her own tray and began to walk towards a tunnel that branched off from the room. Glanced back, she motioned for Ismara to follow. Walking through the tunnel, Ismara grimaced at the bright light that welcomed them at the end and as her eye adjusted she realised that she was back in the throne room.

Directly in front of her Wyatt perched upon his dark throne overlooking his empire. The large sea of creatures was split clean down the middle, and a long line of bounty demons filled the gap. 'They actually hold audiences?' Mara mused.

She felt a sudden jolt and looked up to see Bell discreetly pulling her into an empty position, on the left hand side of the throne. Suppressing a groan, Ismara shuffled into position and, in accordance to Bell's instructions avoided eye contact. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

The day had progressed slowly; at least that's how Ismara perceived it. The pattern seemed rather obvious to her. The demons would attempt to pawn information about the Resistance, while others brought forwards witches, demons and darklighters that they believed possessed valuable information. Wyatt would listen to all, to an extent.

The majority would leave empty handed due to the absurdity of their supposed 'valuable' information. Once or twice a demon would attempt to kill the dark lord, for reasons that Ismara didn't know. Perhaps they were sick of being commanded by the son of a Charmed One. Each time they would fail and in turn be vanquished.

Thankfully she had only been called upon once, and she had managed to serve the wine without any major spillage. Her hand had begun to cramp from holding the pitcher steady but she didn't dare move it. The next demon to approach the throne caught her eye and she watched him stride confidently up to Wyatt. "My lord," he bowed deeply. "I have information concerning the Resistance." 'Yeah you and every other joker here' Ismara thought spitefully.

"As you know the Resistance is full of cowards, murderers." Ismara's head snapped up and for the first time in hours she risked making eye contact with the demon.

"They will do anything to deal a blow to your empire, including the ruthless murder of an entire city, just to vanquish a few demons."

Ismara felt her anger rise and she glanced quickly at Wyatt. Her anger grew tenfold as she saw him smirk and nod in agreement. 'That bastard!' her thoughts become more explicit and she could fell her hands tense on the edge of the tray.

Bell looked over at Ismara and her eyebrows furrowed when she saw the Mara's tense, white knuckles. She could see Mara's control slipping at each word that spewed from the demon's mouth."I managed to breach their fortress. Their most recent plan indicates that they are preparing to attack San Francisco. They're attempting to annihilate our demon settlement there, by decimating everything in a 2 mile radius."

"That's horseshit and you know it." Ismara's barrier had broken and she could feel the anger radiating from her.

Tiny rocks about the room began to crumble and the trays of the other serving girls began to shudder slightly.

"**What?**"

Ismara's eyes met that of the demons and she swallowed nervously. 'Damn it.' The consequences of her rash actions came crashing down upon her. A, she had broken the rules, spoken out of turn. B, the entire cavern had gone silent and every eye had turned and now rested solely on her.

"How dare you address me?" the demon hissed. His fingers began to crackle and an energy ball formed in her hand. Mara swallowed once more. The demon flicked his wrist and the energy ball flew straight at her. Ismara scrunched her eyes and waited.

And waited.

Hesitantly she opened one eye and then the other. The energy ball hovered a few centimetres from her face. She turned her head slightly to see Wyatt's hand outstretched. He curled his fingers inwards and the energy ball fizzled out of existence.

Her eyes traced up her arm, onto his shoulder before finally raising to meet his eyes. He looked directly back at her, arm still raised.

"My lord wha –" Eyes never leaving hers, Wyatt moved his hand and silenced the demon. Ismara could feel herself beginning to fidget under Wyatt's intense gaze.

"You disagree?"

The words emerged with an edge, almost like he was baiting her to continue. Taking a deep breath, Ismara did a once more about the room and returned her gaze to Wyatt.

"Yes." Her voice quivered and she tried once more.

"Yes. I know the Resistance. They aren't murders or cowards," she added the last part glaring at the demon. "You may not agree with their purpose but you must know where their moral compass points." Noticing no disagreement from the dark overlord, she continued.

"Anyone with half a brain knows how impenetrable the Resistance fortresses are. Armies have trouble breaching the front door, let alone managing to find the war room." Ismara shrugged her shoulders. "He's lying."

Wyatt continued to stare at her, and she had a sinking feeling that he was attempting to read her mind. Feeling a phantom itch within her brain, she felt her eye twitch slightly.

An enraged roar caused their eye contact to break and she saw the demon fuming. He conjured two more energy balls and released them, flying towards them. With a slight flick of his wrists Wyatt send them back towards their creator and he disappeared into flames, an agonizing scream filling the large cavern. Silence fell.

Ismara gazed at where the demon stood, slightly in shock. She looked back at Wyatt and he nodded at her. Not a true nod, more of a tilt of his head. Ismara responded in kind before returning to her previous stance, holding the tray steadier. She ignored Bell's pointed looks, she would explain later. Right now, Ismara had to sort out her own thoughts.

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Review? Any criticism is welcome, any ways to improve my writing. :D


	3. Confusion

Title: Saving

Summary: AU While Chris was in the past trying to save Wyatt, someone was in the future; attempting the same feat. Attempting to awaken the goodness and humanity inside his dark heart. Even the Source of All Power needs saving. WyattOC 'T' for safety. Might go up.

Characters: Wyatt and OC, among others.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. Bugger.

A/N: This is possibly the longest chapter I have EVER written, and one of the longest word documents. Thanks to Dancer96 and MONDEBUDDHA for adding 'Saving' to their alert lists and an special thanks to Marumae for her positive feedback and for adding this story to her alert **and **favourites lists!

Please review with any advice on how to improve characters, my writing or just if you want to say how great/horrible it was! ;D Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 3: Confusion

"Truth emerges more readily from error than from confusion."  
**Francis Bacon**

A low horn sounded and the large audience that had gathered bowed before the throne. Ismara had half a mind to look back at Bell for answers, but she didn't dare risk attracting any more attention. Not after today.

Keeping her head down, she saw Wyatt rise and after surveying the cavern he disappeared in a shower of dark orbs. A chill ran down Mara's spine. The girl to her right turned and retreated back into the tunnel and she followed suit, desperate to escape the throne room before any demon decided to rise and eliminate her.

The second she stepped into the preparation room she felt a sharp tug to her right and only just managed to stop her tray, pitcher included from clattering to the ground. She turned to meet Bell's furious eyes.

"What was that?" she hissed.

Ismara felt herself flinch involuntarily at the young girl's harshness. "I-I-I" Ismara stuttered and glanced quickly around the room before returning her gaze to the young girl in front of her.

"I have anger issues" she resolved with a shrug of her shoulders.

"That demon was demolishing everything the resistence stands for. They are my family! It is-was my home." She swallowed thickly at the end, and for the first time Ismara felt the weight of her capture bearing down on her. She would never see them again, her family, her friends. Feeling her eyes prickle, she looked away in shame. Shaking her head, she straightened up. 'Get a grip. At least you're alive.'

Bell's face lost its harshness as she took in Ismara's expression. She reached a hand out to lightly touch the witch's arm but was interrupted by a shove. She stumbled slightly and turned to see a demon, pushing Ismara in the same direction down a new corridor to the left.

Sighing, she turned to the front and followed the other serving girls who had formed their line once more. Bell would grill Ismara later, at the moment she would keep her head down as they were herded through the dark underworld.

* * *

Ismara shuffled through the tunnels behind Bell, rubbing her arm where the demon had roughly pushed her forwards. 'Yep that's gonna bruise' she thought bitterly. As she stumbled forwards with the rest of the line, Ismara began to notice that they had attracted the attention of passerby demons.

More attention than normal. Looking up, she saw demons huddled in corners, pointing and whispering. At her. Every few meters there was a new group of creatures, huddling, whispering, pointing. Sighing she gave the groups a sarcastic smile and nod of her head before returning her gaze to the ground.

A sharp left turn alerted her to the fact that they weren't heading back to the quarters. Sure, she hadn't really memorised the route but the corridors here were lighter, and had a redder tinge. 'Homey'. Preoccupied by her thoughts, she almost tripped over Bell who had come to a complete stop.

Looking around Ismara realised were they were. Spotted about the room there were deep craters filled with water, each possessed a layer of steam hovering just above it. A sigh managed to escape Ismara's lips. She was dying for a bath. Well, maybe dying wasn't the right term adjective considering the current state of the world.

A bundle was thrust into her arms and she looked down at it. To her it seemed akin to a dead animal skin, but looking around she realised that it was the underworld's version of a towel. Peachy. A female demon pushed her towards a spring in the far corner and, stumbling slightly Ismara reached it.

Feeling slightly self conscious, she stepped out of her ripped dress and underclothes. They were taken from her grasp and she turned around to see a young girl.

Ismara's eyebrows furrowed and the young girl gave a smile. "I'm cleaning them. They will be returned shortly."

Without waiting for an answer, she left Ismara at the edge of the pool. Looking down at the water, she dipped a single toe in, before allowing her entire body to be immersed.

The water felt like heaven, ironic considering Ismara's current location. Allowing the water to clean her body she closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. Feeling slightly drowsy, Ismara shook her head and finished washing.

Emerging from the pool, she wrapped the makeshift towel around her body and looked about the young girl. Despite the heat coming from the pools, Ismara felt goose bumps appear along her arms. She turned around once more and started.

The young girl stood in front of her, clothes neatly folded in her outstretched arms. Without a word, she handed them over and disappeared into the back of the room. Riffling through the pile, Mara saw that it was indeed the same dress and underclothes that she had worn."Damn it, I was hoping for a new dress" she muttered to herself before dressing and searching the room for Bell.

Seeing her across the room, drying off her hair Ismara walked across the room, weaving in and out of the pools to reach Bell.

"Now what?" she asked, looking around the room in confusion.

Bell smiled and took Ismara's towel out of her hands and threw it into a pile that was located next to the entrance. "Now we eat." Bell raised an eyebrow and turned, walking over to a tunnel that branched off of the main entrance to the pools. Following, Ismara felt her stomach growl. She just hoped the food now here was edible.

* * *

Looking down at the food on her tray, Ismara repositioned herself on one of the seats within what seemed to be the mess hall for the serving girls. Looking around the room, she saw the seats spotted randomly about the room. Her head did a full 180˚ and she resettled her gaze to Bell in front of her, who was gazing at Ismara with an expectant look on her face.

Fiddling nervously, Ismara shrugged. "You seem to be treated rather humanely here. I didn't expect that from the underworld."

Bell took a bite of her food and smiled. "Lord Wyatt ensures that we are given adequate food and quarters, and in turn we serve him with _respect_." Bell stressed the last word and Ismara flinched.

"I know, I know." Ismara raised her fork but at the last second let it fall from her hand.

"It just infuriated me you know?" Bell remained silent. "That **demon**," Mara spat the word from her mouth, "standing there, acting all arrogant. And Wyatt, in all his evilness just sat there, drinking in every one of that demon's poisoned words!" Ismara felt her chest heave heavily as her breathing quickened.

Bell tilted her head. "Finished?"

Ismara sighed. "Yes."

Bell nodded looking down at her tray before snapping her head back up. "Satisfied?"

Mara scoffed and leaned back. "No. If my powers weren't dampened I would have knocked that demon on his ass."

Bell smiled at the witch's antics. "I'll admit it was hilarious to see the shock of that demon's face. Somehow I don't think he counted on the new serving girl scolding him."

Ismara opened and closed her mouth is shock. "H-how?" She swallowed. "How did you see his reaction? What happened to 'avoid eye contact'?"

Bell gave a sly smile. "Stick around new girl. You'll learn a few new tricks." Ismara returned a smile and took a few bites of her food.

A few minutes of silence passed. "Bell?" Mara looked up at the girl across from her. "Why do you think Wyatt listened?"

Bell swallowed her food and looked down at her tray for a few moments. "To be honest, I don't know." She pushed the remainder of her food about her tray. "Wyatt isn't as heartless as most make out. He will listen, if you say something of substance. Obviously he believed that your outburst held some truth."

Ismara nodded and gazed numbly down at her tray. She felt a slight shudder course through her as she remembered his intense gaze. She remembered his hazel eyes and his never waiving stare. Even thinking about it caused the phantom itch within her brain to return.

Shaking herself out of her daze she saw Bell looking at her. "You're thinking about him, aren't you?" Ismara felt her face grow slightly hot, despite her best efforts. "Yes" She confessed. "But _not_ in that way" she hurriedly added noticing Bell's smirk.

"I just can't seem to shake his gaze. I could swear he was in here," she tapped her head, "attempting to read my thoughts." Ismara confided.

She expected Bell to laugh, scoff or look away but she did none of the above. Leaning over, she gently took the empty tray out of Mara's hands and walked to the far end of the room. Bell stacked them next to others and returned to her seat. "It is not unheard of. Lord Wyatt's powers are endless."

Ismara shrugged and continued to fiddle with the hem of her dress.

"Mara." Bell's soft voice forced Mara to look up at her newly acquainted friend. "Don't over think this. Just be grateful that you lived. Got it?" Mara's lip twitched upwards. "Got it."

* * *

After about half an hour of comfortable chatter Bell and Ismara along with the rest of the girl within the mess hall began to trudge back to their quarters. Trailing the line at the back, Ismara didn't notice the extra demon at the door until she had reached the entrance.

A syringe was pushed into her hands and she staggered to her rack, her attention focused solely upon the needle now clutched within her hands. Falling down onto the bed she glanced up to see Bell injecting herself with the liquid.

"They allow us to inject ourselves. Less painful." Bell commented never breaking her concentration. "If you don't, our Lord will sense it. He'll sense your powers and then not even your sharp tongue will save you." She finally peered over at Ismara, who continued to hold the needle within her fingers.

Mara slowly raised the needle and placed it against her arm. The sharp prick caused a quick intake of breath. Mara pushed down the plunger. She watched the liquid slowly filter out of the barrel and into her veins. Glancing around nervously, Mara stopped suddenly.

Withdrawing the needle, she looked at the few millimetres of liquid remaining. Quickly squirting it onto the ground she placed the used syringe with the others and lay down upon her rack. Ismara gave a small smile as she felt the slight feeling of her magic reawakening. She could do this.

* * *

The next day passed in much the same fashion. Ismara would be rudely awakened and she would trudge down the hallways to the serving area. Suppressing a yawn Mara looked about the earthy tunnel.

"What are you looking for?" Liz asked. Turning her neck to face the girl, Ismara gave a wide smile. She had met Liz earlier in the morning.

Bell had gone to track down a second brush when the ginger-haired, green eyed witch had come bounding up to her. It only took a few moments for Ismara to become quite taken with seemed to be older than herself, but Liz possessed a spark, energy that caused Ismara to feel slightly exhausted just by looking at her.

"A clock. Or a calendar." Ismara answered, craning her neck around the tunnel once more. "Is today Tuesday or Wednesday?" Ismara didn't expect Liz to know, or Bell who shuffled along behind her.

The day of the week didn't hold a high position on anyone's 'to remember list'. One's head was usually crammed full of codes, battle plans and guard shifts to worry about the date. In the resistence, a battered calendar had hung in the foyer.

Each year one of the leaders would reset it, with magic of course. Chris always attempted to make the calendar humorous, an attempt to lift the resistance's moral, the most recent one would shout out a new joke each day. It would work, for about a day.

A pain shot through Ismara and she struggled to maintain her smile. It had been months since anyone had heard news from Chris. The last information received occurred when he was forcedly brought back from the future. After that, the spies within Wyatt's ranks had gone silent.

Naturally Mara couldn't confide this secret with Bell or Liz. Details of Chris' mission were heavily guarded; the only reason Mara knew anything was due to a rather unfortunate accident where she had overheard the leaders talking in hushed tones. She was bringing them news from their United Kingdom counterpart when she had happened upon the conversation.

Mara had quickly slinked away before anyone had noticed her presence.

Now, in the underworld Wyatt's gaze unsettled her to a whole other degree. His eyes contained the same stunning hazel colour, almost identical to the photo of Chris that hung in the Resistance main hall, along with countless others of lost friends.

"Mara?" Bell's soft voice caused Mara to look up. They had reached the serving room and her tray was already in her arms. Liz came up next to Bell. "You okay?" Mara nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm fine." She turned and walked out to the throne room.

Emerging, she took up her position from yesterday and quickly scanned the room. 'Full as usual.' It took the first few demons for Ismara to become unsettled. Neither Wyatt nor any of the audience below showed any signs of witnessing the altercation that had occurred the previous day.

Ismara began to fear that she had dreamed it, due to the indifference. Taking a deep breath, she risked a quick glance to her right. She started slightly and focused all her energy on holding the tray steady. Wyatt was looking at her. Straight at her.

Ismara averted her eyes to the ground and struggled to keep her heart beat under control. She could feel his dark gaze upon her and to be honest, it terrified the young witch. After a few seconds later, Mara glanced again; Wyatt's eyes had returned to the cavern and Ismara doubted that he had ever looked in her direction.

The rest of her 'shift' passed by before Mara managed to get her breathing under control.

* * *

Ismara stumbled into the serving room and leant against the nearest wall, her chest heaving and her hands had begun to shake. Her throat felt dry and she attempted to swallow. A young man approached her and took her tray.

Bell and Liz came to stand next to her. "Now _that_," Mara emphasised, "was scary." Bell turned to Liz and a smile graced both their faces. Mara gave a breathy laugh and ran her hands through her hair.

They proceeded to the pools, and soon after to the mess hall. After about five minutes of comfortable silence Liz gave Mara a wry smile."No pearls of wisdom for today?" Mara swallowed her food and looked at Liz, an 'are-you-kidding-me' expression on her face.

"Nope, not today. I like my life." Liz laughed and Bell rolled her eyes at Mara.

"That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble." Mara gave a wry smile and swallowed a mouthful of food.

"So I've been told." Looking about the room at the other occupants she sighed.

Returning her attention to the two girls in front, she gave a hesitant smile. "What's wrong?" Liz asked. Ismara averted her gaze and glanced about the room once more.

"It's just-" she paused. "I didn't expect here," she motioned about the mess hall "to be so…" Mara struggled to find the right word.

"Strange? Relaxed? Unusual?" Bell inserted various words. Mara shrugged. "Something along those lines yes."

Liz collected all three of the trays and placed them in the pile at the entrance. Returning she looked at Bell and then back at Mara. "The underworld isn't as dark and unforgiving as people think. We serve, and in return we are treated fairly."

Mara gave a wry smile. "Yeah, I already got the speech from Bell over there." Bell gave Mara a bemused look. "I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop." Liz laughed and stood, along with the others in the room. Following suit Bell and Mara rose and began to walk towards the entrance. "Well don't hold your breath. I highly doubt any more footwear will fall."

* * *

Ismara let her head fall back onto the bed. Her body ached of exhaustion. A thought crossed her mind and she quickly sat up. "Hey Bell. What about that liquid-magic-blocking doohickey?" she asked waving her hands about.

Bell opened her eyes and turned to look at Mara. A look of confusion crossed her face. "It is only needed once a week. Do you need more?" Mara attempted a nonchalant smile. "No. Just curious." A silence passed between the two girls. "Well… goodnight." Mara flipped over to her other side and stared at the cave wall.

She could do this. A plan began to form slowly in her head. Glancing over her shoulder at Bell, Mara sighed. The girls were nice, and the life here rivalled that upon the surface but she needed to get back. Back to the Resistance and to her friends. Her conflicting thoughts kept Ismara awake throughout the night,

Weeks passed. Ismara's routine rarely changed. The girls would awake, perform their duties, bathe, eat and then retire to sleep. And slowly, Mara would decrease the amount of liquid entering her bloodstream, now only ¾ of the liquid surged through her veins.

Bell's warning remained in her head and each day she feared that Wyatt would sense her magic and that would be the end of her. So far, the day had yet to happen. Mara was unsure if he knew and was simply waiting for her to make a move, or if he had just stopped checking; confident that none of the girls would dare risk disobeying him.

Once or twice she had felt a heated gaze upon her, but by the time she had gathered the courage to look around the room there would be no indication that anyone even knew she existed. It frightened her to no extent.

Musing upon her thoughts, Ismara stumbled, as usual into the serving room and blearily rubbed her eyes. Yawning, she stretched her arms above her head and groaned. Looking down she saw Liz approach.

"Tired?" the girl asked a smirk on her lips. Mara grumbled, steadying her tray. "I couldn't sleep." She stated simply. Bell walked up behind Liz and took in Ismara's dishevelled state. "Not an early riser I take it?" Ismara gave a second yawn and nodded.

Ismara had no idea how she had managed to survive working with the Resistance. Along with her anger issues, she tended to become quite irritable when her sleep was interrupted. Her mind would become foggy and her magic slightly askew.

It wasn't unusual for her to speak without thinking. Unlike the majority of her companions, all-nighters were not her strong point and Mara would unintentionally snap at any that crossed her path. Sighing, Mara rubbed her eyes once more and straightened her back. She would need to contain her snappiness, at least until the day was over.

Walking out, she blinked and scowled at the bright light of the throne room. 'Isn't Elderland supposed to be the insanely bright place?' she thought angrily and took her position beside the throne.

The day passed by slowly, painfully slowly. Mara was coming to her wit's end and she rolled her eyes at the current demon peddling information. Within minutes Wyatt had dismissed him and another had taken his place. "My Lord, I bring grave news. The Scabber demons are amassing against you."

A demon wearing soiled clothes stood tall at the foot of the stairs. "They have converted their lair to an armoury. They will attack soon."

Ismara felt herself scoff at the demon. 'Seriously? Who does he think he's talking to? The Stillman sisters?' Everyone knew how mindless Scabber demons were, they could barely attack the mortals above without suffering loses.

Hearing an unusual silence, Mara raised her head and saw every eye looking at her… again. Glancing about the room Mara cursed. 'Damn. Done it again.' She thought angrily and looked up at the ceiling in disbelief. She really needed to see a therapist.

The demon looked at her and growled. "Let me guess, you disagree?" Sarcasm laced his voice.

'Obviously' Mara thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. A sudden murmuring filled the room and Ismara peered over at the demon to see an infuriated expression. 'Oh crap.'

"Did I say that out loud?" she shrugged her shoulders. "My bad."

The murmuring rose and Mara mentally groaned. She just didn't know when to shut up. This was one situation were being a smart-ass would not help her cause. Glancing over at Wyatt, she was surprised to see a bemused smirk adorning his face.

"Fine. Enlighten us." The demon hissed at Mara, and she swallowed loudly. 'Don't say anything. Don't take the bait.' Naturally Ismara's brain was well behind her quick mouth. Altering her stance slightly she looked straight at the demon.

"A. Scabber demons are morons. Everyone knows that. They can barely aim let alone organise a coordinate attack. B. Their lair is guarded. There is no way you can manage to enter it without gaining a few acid burns." Mara looked down at her wrists that were spotted with scars.

"Even I know that. So either you had the wrong lair, or you're _much_ smarter than we give you credit for." A sinister chuckle sounded to her right and Mara looked over at Wyatt. 'Well, at least he still finds me amusing' She thought sardonically.

A hesitant laugh followed the dark ruler's, and rang around the room. Ismara's brain finally caught up to mouth and she cringed. She had definitely gone too far. The previous outburst had a purpose, to defend the resistance's integrity.

Her scolding a few minutes ago was formed out of pure spite and Mara feared the consequences. Last demon, her speech had been refined, whereas her little talk to the one in front was fraught with sarcasm. She took in the demon in front, waiting for an retribution. She didn't have to wait long. Electricity began to crackle about his fingertips. 'Not again.' Ismara highly doubted that Wyatt would come to her rescue a second time.

"Stop." The low voice caused the hairs on Mara's neck to stand up and a tremble ran through her body. The demon halted and looked over at Wyatt. "Go. Leave with what little dignity you still possess." Extinguishing the energy ball in his palm, the demon shimmered out a scowl still fixed upon his face.

Ismara daren't look over at the throne again. Perhaps if she remained silent, the entire room would ignore this outburst as they had the previous one. Perhaps she could just remain inconspicuous until the end of the session. The problem was Ismara had no idea when that was.

The waiting was the hardest. Her body tensed at every noise and her breathing would quicken in response to anything resembling a horn. She just wanted to get out of here, and maybe find a demonic therapist down here. Either that or become a voluntary mute.

The low horn eventually sounded and Mara's body flooded with relief. As standard, Wyatt rose. Mara waited with baited breath for the witchlighter to orb out. And waited. Daring a glance over at Liz, the young witch gave an almost unnoticeable shrug.

The creatures remained bowing. Wyatt waved a hand over the audience, dismissing the entire cavern. "What the hell?" Mara whispered fiercely. Puzzled, the entire cave followed the gesture and flamed, shimmered and left via other means. The serving girls looked equally mystified for a few moments.

Bell slowly began to walk towards the tunnel and Liz and the others followed. Breathing a sigh of relief Ismara turned to go, she could almost taste the freedom.

A quick flash in the corner of her eye was Mara's only warning before she felt a hand grab her arm and restrain her in a death grip. Her momentum caused her stumble back slightly but she quickly regained her footing. Mara's heart beat increased ten fold and her breathing quickened.

The hand was freezing against her warm arm and Mara could have sworn that she could feel her skin slowly turning to ice. Her throat had gone dry and Mara was sure that her tray would have indents from where her hands were gripping it.

This was it. She had gone too far and now, now she was completely and utterly screwed. Everyone had warned her that her short temper and quick mouth would be her end, and for once Ismara wished she had listened to them.

* * *

Review?


	4. Apprehension

Title: Saving

Summary: AU While Chris was in the past trying to save Wyatt, someone was in the future; attempting the same feat. Attempting to awaken the goodness and humanity inside his dark heart. Even the Source of All Power needs saving. WyattOC 'T' for safety. Might go up.

Characters: Wyatt and OC, among others.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed.

A/N. Thanks to artisticfan for their great review. And a special thanks to:

Calli2009 for her very positive review and for adding this story to her alert lists and Beautiful-Phoenix75 for adding 'Saving' to both her alert and favourites lists!

I have added a small paragraph back in Chapter One at the beginning explaining a certain concept of this story. And just to mention that this story will contain Ismara is a lot of scenes. There may be some with the Resistance and maybe a few containing Wyatt but the majority, at this stage will contain Ismara. In later chapters there will be a greater variety of locations and characters.

I'm sorry if that offends anyone but at this moment the structure that I've formed doesn't include anything outside the underworld, at least not until after the next chapter or so.

This chapter is sort of a filler so it's a bit shorter than the previous one.

If you feel Ismara creeping towards becoming a Mary Sue if **any** way, please feel free to tell me. ;D

* * *

Chapter Four: Apprehension

"There are more things to alarm us than to harm us, and we suffer more often in apprehension than reality."  
**Lucius Annaeus Seneca**

Wyatt looked over the witch's head to the serving girls, two of which had frozen and were looking at the scene before them. Keeping his grip on the witch he fixed them with a glare. "Leave us." His deep and commanding voice caused a shudder to pass over Liz and Bell, and the former nudged the later and they both retreated down the hallway.

Minutes passed and Wyatt released the witch's arm and watched as it went slack. Slowly he walked around to face her, sadistically enjoying the fact that every step he took echoed and caused the girl to flinch. Ismara kept her head and eyes straight to floor, ignoring any gesture that Wyatt made.

Coming about to face her, he gave a sinister laugh. "You have quite a mouth now don't you?"

Mara remained silent and continued to stare at the ground. A smirk now adorned Wyatt's face. "If I wanted you dead you would not have survived this long."

That made sense in Mara's head, but she remained still. She had tempted fate once today, and she daren't risk tempting it once may have spared her, but her attitude remained and at the moment she did not trust her mouth.

Growling Wyatt roughly grabbed Mara's face and forced her to look at him. After a few seconds Mara threw caution to the wind and glared at him intently. A deep chuckle reverberated through Wyatt's chest. "Now _there's_ the defiance I love." He released her face and walked around to the opposite side of the throne.

Mara gently moved her jaw and winced when it clicked. "Ow," she deadpanned, her back still facing Wyatt.

She turned around to see him leaning slightly against the throne. "For some reason, I find your wit amusing." His arms were positioned on the arm of the throne and his head tilted up at her.

"Yeah, you mentioned that already." Mara retorted.

Wyatt looked taken aback for a brief moment. Recognition adorned his face suddenly and he leaned back with a breathy laugh. "Ah. The Resistance witch."

"One of many."

Mara's hands began to cramp and she searched about the room. Locating a stump large enough for the tray to rest on, she headed towards it.

"You seem incapable of remaining silent." Wyatt's eyes followed the witch.

"Fatal flaw," Mara murmured and slowly lowered the tray.

"One would say. And yet, you always seem to have something of value to bestow. To be able to address the entire cavern requires a certain –" Wyatt paused and watched Mara. She turned around and folded her arms in a defensive pose, hands now devoid of the serving tray.

"– insolence." Wyatt sneered threateningly.

Mara gradually began to move away from the side of cavern and towards the middle where the throne stood. "Or some might say bravery." She stood just behind the throne, not daring to place any of her weight on in. She glanced over at the ruler of the underworld. He stared back.

Minutes passed in uncomfortable silence. For a few moments, Ismara entertained the menacing thought that Wyatt had indeed detected her magic as Bell had forewarned her.

Movement broke her thought pattern and within a few strides Wyatt in all his glory stood before her, his added height allowing him to tower over him. "Tomorrow do not collect a serving tray." The witchlighter's sudden movement and statement caused Mara to stumble back slightly, her mind dazed.

"You're firing me? Thanks Skippy, made my day." Mara sharp tongue betrayed her before her common sense could return.

Wyatt raised his arm ready to strike her and Mara felt herself flinch slightly. Wyatt stopped his hand and instead clenched it tightly; his teeth grating and a growl escaped his lips. "No."

Ismara could see his self restraint waning and she subconsciously took a step back out of his range. At her actions, she furiously berated herself. She could be on the opposite side of the room and it wouldn't help her cause.

Wyatt watched her movements with a strange fascination. Shaking his head slightly, he moved several feet away and turned back to the witch. "Another girl will serve. I want you to put your razor sharp tongue to use."

Mara's face went blank and she tilted it slightly to the left. 'What on Earth is he talking about?' Ismara's mind was jumbled and she struggled to make sense of Wyatt's rather vague statement. She despised guessing games. No had dared to play 'Twenty Questions' with her as a child, the game would usually end with her stalking out of the room in annoyance.

"You've been right the past two times. Perhaps you can keep up that streak."

Mara felt her face remain blank and she struggled to keep her mouth from dropping open in shock. He wanted her to what? Offer advice? This was way outside her pay grade. She swallowed and slowly sifted through her thoughts. It could help her. There was a good chance it would give her more freedom, she would be once step closer to escaping.

Ismara shook her head to clear the cobwebs. Wyatt leaned forward slightly. "What? Cat got your tongue?" the dark humour within his voice was clearly heard. Mara felt her lip twitch. "No," her voice indignant.

"You're dismissed." And with a wave of his hand Wyatt turned and walked over to the throne. Mara released a breathy sigh and turned to leave. She had gone nought a few meters when she stopped at the entrance to the tunnel. A sinking feeling filled her stomach. She had no idea where to go.

True she had been working, if you could call it working, in the underworld for a few months but any attempt of hers to memorise the routes often caused her head to ache. The labyrinth passageways seemed to change each day and Ismara swore that someone had enchanted them.

She started forwards but halted after a few seconds. There was no way she was walking through the underworld alone. It was suicide.

A deep chuckle echoed about the cavern and Ismara turned to see that Wyatt had yet to leave the room. "Lost?" he mocked with a smile set upon his lips that caused an uneasiness within Ismara.

Mara's face hardened and she glared at him with as much intensity as she dared. "It's not my fault your corridors are so darn confusing."

Wyatt shook his head at the young witch. She most definitely possessed spark, and openly opposed him. Something he hadn't seen since Chris. An unknown feeling hit Wyatt in the chest and he frowned. Glancing up to see Ismara looking at him he waved his hand and watched as the young witch disappeared in a fury of orbs.

Furrowing his brow he stalked out of the throne room and down a branched corridor. The corridor was barely lit and the walls held darker tones than the rest of the system. Water dripped down from the ceiling every few meters and Wyatt skilfully dodged each drop with a certain elegance.

His stride slowed slightly and a quick left turn saw him descending a flight of stairs deep down into the underworld.

He came to a halt outside a wooden door. It had definitely seen better days, a bolt was fixed across it and two demons stood guard outside. Stopping in front of them, he looked between them. "Open it," he hissed, his hazel eyes flashing dangerously.

One demon waved his hand across the door and a blue force field disengaged, and the second demon quickly opened the door for the twice-blessed, before following him inside the dimly lit room.

Stalking inside Wyatt lit the torch in the corner with an energy ball and glared at the room before him. A large well stood in the centre, filled with a dark liquid and a bundle lay next to it. Walking over to it, he kicked it roughly with his boot.

"Comfortable Seer?" he scorned. The bundle slowly moved and a pale woman stood, her left leg encased within a shackle that was in turn attached the to the well.

"I see your humour remains." Her spite was clear and she shuffled slowly to the edge of the well, careful not to jar her ankle.

Around the shackle black bruises had formed and grazes encircled her pale ankle where the Seer had struggled to escape her bindings. A black sarong was wrapped around her waist and a rather tiny and ripped shirt donned her upper body.

"Well next time you decide to overthrow me," Wyatt leaned over closer, "plan a little better" he mock-whispered and went to stand on the other side of the pool.

"Next time I'll be prepared." The Seer spat at the witchlighter across the pool.

Looking down at her Wyatt grimaced. "Pleasant. Enough stalling, do it," he commanded pointing down at the pool.

"Do what?" the Seer shrugged nonchalantly.

Wyatt growled and leaned across the well and grabbed the Seer by the arm. "Don't play dumb with me. Look into the future or the past, whatever the pool shows you. I don't have time for your games."

The Seer ripped her arm away from his grasp and began to slowly stir the water with her fingertips. "What's wrong?" she teased. "Something spooked you?" Wyatt remained silent. A large smile broke onto the Seer's face. "Or someone?"

The witchlighter glared at her and pointed once more at the water. "Look. I won't ask a second time." Wyatt's fingers began to crackle with energy and he glared pointedly at the Seer.

"Fine." The Seer peered into the pool and sighed. "The future remains uncertain; ever since your brother went back the waters haven't been as reliable. The possibilities merge and split within seconds."

She looked up at Wyatt and sighed. "I'm sorry ok? I wish I could give you a straight answer, the entire underworld is on edge but I can't force the waters. I don't know what your brother's doing in the past but whatever it is, it's definitely changing something."

Stopping the Seer glanced across the pool to gauge the witchlighter's reaction but instead Wyatt's gaze was fixed solely at the waters.

Watching the small ripples move through the water, Wyatt was consumed by his thoughts. The Seer hadn't exactly quelled his uneasiness about the Resistance witch. If she was a plant the Seer couldn't tell.

Wyatt wouldn't put it past the Resistance to allow one of their own to be captured; if they indeed believed that her dry wit and careless attitude would allow them to gain a foothold within the underworld. He remembered stories about similar battle tactics from when he was a child, the library at Magic School had been fraught with knowledge of every previous battle fought.

"The future would be clearer if you allowed us to go back my lord." One of the demons at the door had approached and stood to his left. Wyatt glared heatedly at the being, but the demon continued oblivious to the trouble that was brewing. "Just a strike force. We can get in, kill that meddling witchlighter and get out before anyone even notices our presence."

Wyatt stood back up and turned to face the demon. He held his hands behind his back, and an energy ball gradually formed. "Is that so?"

The demon nodded but a frown formed as he took in the snarl that now adorned Wyatt's face. His hand shot forward and the demon was vanquished in a ball of flame and screaming.

Turning to the accompanying demon he grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and thrust him against the wall. "No one goes back to the past. No one. **Understand**?" Wyatt's voice rose to an enraged scream and the demon gulped before shimmering out.

Growling, Wyatt swiped at the wall and watched in satisfaction when several large rocks crumbled to the ground. Paying no attention to the stunned Seer he left in a flourish and slammed the door behind him.

Ascending the stairs Wyatt took to muttering under his breath. He didn't need to go back to the past. No one did. Chris would find out that there was no way to 'save' him, because he was never corrupted. There was no evil, no good just power. Why couldn't he see it? It infuriated the ruler to his wit's end.

Emerging from the side tower he slammed his fist into the wall in anger and the entire tunnel shook from the force.

His brother would find out. This future, his empire would never disappear no matter how many demons Chris would vanquish in the past. There was no solution, simply because there was no problem. If Chris and his pitiful Resistance wouldn't listen to reason, then they learn the hard way; Wyatt would make sure of it.

* * *

Ismara withdrew the needle from her arm, its barrel half filled with the liquid and disposed of the remaining evidence. Her stomach still felt slightly queasy from her orbing earlier.

To say she had been shocked when she had felt her body dissolve into the minute orbs would be an immense understatement. Her shock had quickly morphed into confusion when she found herself within the bathing room.

After mindlessly cleaning herself, she had followed two other girls to the mess hall and immediately had been all but tackled by Liz and Bell.

They both had feared the worst and were quick to assume that Mara wouldn't return. Her explanation had left much to be desired and neither of them possessed any answers to Mara's worrying questions. What was so special about her? Why was she to be made this advisor-person?

Lying back on the hard mattress she peered over at Liz, who had recently migrated to the bunk that lay to Mara's right. Bell had fallen asleep the second her head hit the pillow and Liz had taken it upon herself to administer Bell's potion. "Liz?" Mara whispered fiercely.

The red head looked over at Mara and rolled onto her side to fully face the witch. "Why does Wyatt need me?" Seeing the confusion upon her friend's face she elaborated.

"My outbursts of so called 'valuable' information could be noticed by almost anyone. Everyone knows about Scabber demon's lairs, and the morality of the Resistance, not to mention countless other things that I," she paused slightly.

"That I would have no idea about. So why me?" she enunciated the final question and furrowed her eyebrows. It didn't make any sense, and that annoyed Mara to no end.

"Truthfully? In all the underworld, you're properly the least bias." Liz held up a hand to stop Mara's protests. "The creatures down here would say anything about each other to get into Wyatt's good graces, even false accusation as you have previously seen. You on the other hand have no such desire." Liz stopped for a second and looked over Mara. "At least I don't think you do?"

Ismara lightly glared at her friend, "No. Of course I don't."

"Good to hear." Liz nodded and waited for a second or two. "I think sometimes even Wyatt craves someone that isn't interested in ass-kissing, someone to notice things that his blinkered vision wouldn't even consider."

Watching the imaginary clogs turn within Mara's head, Liz sighed. "Don't read too much into it. Just get some sleep and see what happens tomorrow. Okay?"

Ismara gave a hesitant nod. "Okay."

Allowing her head to fall back onto the pillow, Ismara attempted to will herself to sleep. Her time in the Underworld wasn't exactly shaping up to what Mara had expected and to be honest? That frightened the young witch more than any encounter with Wyatt ever could.

* * *

Please review with any thoughts. Any thought at all. ;D


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